


Therapy for Genocidal Generals

by yhlee (etothey)



Category: Machineries of Empire Series - Yoon Ha Lee
Genre: Crack, Gen, Telepathy, Therapy, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21843775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etothey/pseuds/yhlee
Summary: "I'm Nirai Dia, and I specialize in couples with troubles. Why don't you start by telling me about yourselves and how long you've been together?""Two months," Jedao supplied immediately.At the same time, Cheris said, "Eleven years."The therapist's smile became even more polished. Cheris could practically see her filing them underavoidant man, codependent woman, check.*Thank you to UrsulaKohl and sigalit for beta reading this.
Relationships: Ajewen Cheris & Garach Jedao Shkan
Comments: 21
Kudos: 123
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Therapy for Genocidal Generals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AuroraCloud](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraCloud/gifts).



"I'm not so sure about this place," Jedao said as he fussed over his fingerless gloves. "Are you sure we have the right address?"

"Quite sure," Cheris said, resisting the urge to grab his arm and haul him toward the door.

Even so, Cheris had to admit that the place did look, as kids these days said, _sketchy_ , even if she'd been braced for strange things on this obscure backwater planet called _Earth_. She hadn't expected the therapist's office to be ensconced in the middle of a sedate residential neighborhood, complete with koi ponds, kids playing hacky sack, and people gathered around a grill that smelled temptingly of Kansas-style barbecue. She had severe doubts about the neighborhood's ability to withstand any sort of bombardment; the nearest bomb shelter was a depressing two hours away by flitter.

Just because Jedao wasn't carrying any weapons--she had searched him, including cavities, before shoving him into the flitter for this trip--didn't mean he couldn't wrangle an artillery strike out of his pocket. Wrangling with a side of mass murder was the man's specialty. Which was the whole reason she'd brought him here.

 _{It's like you don't trust me or something,}_ Jedao said in her mind.

 _{Did you mean for me to hear that?}_ Cheris retorted. Ever since she'd fetched up with a completely unwanted telepathic connection to Jedao, she'd been looking for ways out--or even coping mechanisms. "Come on," she said aloud, "we don't want to be late for the appointment." As a point of fact, she had timed their arrival so they would be precisely seven minutes early.

Cheris rang the doorbell.

The door slid open. "Please silence your slates and augments, and wait. The therapist will be with you shortly," a soothing alto said from the ceiling.

Dutifully, Cheris silenced her slate and augment, and glared at Jedao until he followed suit.

A servitor was tidying the waiting room, rearranging some old-fashioned paper magazines. Cheris knew better than to draw attention to it by saying hello out loud, but she signed a discreet greeting anyway, and it blinked its lights green and pink in a friendly fashion.

Jedao strode over to the magazines and riffled through them with interest. "Lifestyles of the Very Rich and Fashionable," he read. "Boring. Solutions to Everything in [Hilbert's Program](https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/hilbert-program/), never heard of Hilbert, pass."

Cheris opened her mouth to educate him, then decided it would be a waste of time. Besides, that one had to be a prank.

"Guns and Ammo for Genocidal Generals\--ah, that one's promising."

Cheris rolled her eyes. _{If that's a personality test, congratulations! You've flunked with flying colors.}_

_{Sometimes you can catch people unawares by playing to type.}_

She didn't believe that for a second. He really wanted to read that magazine instead of something more wholesome. Then again, if he wanted to read wholesome things, she wouldn't have had to drag him into therapy with her in the first place.

Fortunately, before Jedao could try her patience any further, the therapist emerged from one of the back offices. "Hello!" she said. "Please come on in."

Thanks to the stupid telepathic link, Cheris knew that Jedao had cataloged and then dismissed no fewer than fourteen different ways to murder the poor therapist in the second before he smiled and said, "Thank you for seeing us."

 _{Why are we seeing her anyway?}_ Jedao added, aggrieved.

 _{You know why.}_ She'd explained to him that he might not care about his mental health, but since she could now hear everything that he was thinking, she sure as hell cared about _hers_. It had taken a lot of searching to find a therapist--any therapist--who _hadn't_ heard of her or Jedao; she wasn't about to put that effort to waste. Jedao had bitched and moaned about it until she promised to take him out for whiskey afterwards.

Of course, at this rate, she was the one who was going to be needing the whiskey.

Cheris and Jedao took seats at the opposite ends of a three-person couch. The therapist settled herself in a white armchair, which Cheris knew Jedao thought was a terrible idea because you'd never get the blood out of it, and never mind modern fabrics that could eat crud. Jedao's constant internal commentary on things like whether snipers could shoot them through the window (yes) or where he could dive for cover if someone threw in a grenade (under the desk and behind the couch maybe) was so distracting that Cheris didn't hear the therapist when she introduced herself.

"I'm sorry," Cheris said, blushing, "could you repeat that? It's been a stressful day." More like a stressful _decade_.

"Of course," the therapist said with a professional smile, as polished as Kujen's shoes. "I'm Nirai Dia, and I specialize in couples with troubles. Why don't you start by telling me about yourselves and how long you've been together?"

"Two months," Jedao supplied immediately.

At the same time, Cheris said, "Eleven years."

The therapist's smile became even more polished. Cheris could practically see her filing them under _avoidant man, codependent woman, check_.

"My name is Jay," Jedao said, which, while not a safe name to use, was infinitely safer than _General Shuos Jedao, Immolation Fox, arch-traitor to the hexarchate_.

"I'm Cheris," Cheris said: also not safe, but she fully expected the woman to turn them up in an image search without difficulty. She didn't reckon the therapist would last more than one session anyway.

"Let me guess, Cheris," the therapist said, leaning forward. Her eyes were soft and sympathetic. Cheris was almost taken in. "This relationship, as you see it, means a lot to you, and you wish he would reciprocate."

"Er," Cheris said. "That's not quite it. We're unable to separate. I thought you'd help us find a way to survive each other since we _can't_ get rid of each other."

 _{That's not strictly true,}_ Jedao observed. _{I could get rid of you no problem.}_

 _{Shut up.}_ Cheris forced herself to smile; her lips felt numb. "Je--Jay's an assassin." She'd downgraded him from _genocidal general_ , but she didn't want to send the therapist into hysterics. "I want to know that I can trust him."

A furrow had appeared between the therapist's brows. "I see," she said, although she clearly didn't. "Jay, what's your perspective?"

"I'm just here because she promised me whiskey," Jedao said with his most disarming smile. "I'm all for bribery."

"You know the therapeutic process will only work with the cooperation of both parties," chided the therapist. "Let's bring it back into the room."

"I'm here, therefore I'm cooperating," Jedao said. His eyes glinted. "I haven't even killed anyone unless our lives were threatened. I'm not sure what else she can ask for."

"And how does that make you feel, Cheris?" the therapist prompted while Cheris fought down the urge to scream.

"You have," Cheris explained to Jedao, "the worst judgment I have ever seen, and that includes the elementary schoolers I used to teach. At least they don't try to _kill_ people with chewing gum. If I'm going to be with you for the rest of my life, I need to know that you're not going to 'accidentally' blow up a city because of 'tactical necessity.'"

"Can we dialogue about this, Jay?" the therapist said.

"I was saving her life!" Jedao protested.

"You're overbearing and you make decisions without consulting me!" Cheris shot back.

The therapist pursed her lips. "Are you certain this relationship is good for you?"

"It's _terrible_ for me," Cheris said, overenunciating, "but we have a telepathic link I don't know how to get rid of so I'm kind of stuck."

 _{You've done it now,}_ Jedao observed.

However, instead of recoiling or calling Cheris delusional--and after all, there were far weirder things in the hexarchate--the therapist nodded vigorously. "Of course, of course," she said, her voice softening. "It's quite romantic."

"Yes, it--what?" Cheris demanded.

The therapist beamed at them. If her face had shone any brighter it would have been glowing. "You're fated mates!" she exclaimed. "I read about them all them time, of course, but this is the first case I've had the fortune to encounter in person. Of _course_ I'll help you adjust to your new reality as a bonded couple."

Cheris and Jedao exchanged worried glances. "Pardon me," Jedao said, "but we're not a couple in _that_ sense--"

"Nonsense," the therapist said briskly. She clapped her hands together in a frankly alarming expression of delight. "There are online support groups for people with your particular blessing--"

"Excuse me," Cheris said hastily, "I just realized we double-booked ourselves and we both have _very urgent_ root canals to get done. Sorry, bye!" And she made a dash for the door, followed by Jedao.

"But we haven't discussed your soulmarks!" the therapist wailed.

 _{About that--}_ Jedao began.

 _{After we've escaped,}_ Cheris told him, still sprinting for the flitter.

It wasn't until two hours away by flitter, at the nearest bomb shelter, that Cheris and Jedao stopped. "What did she mean, soulmarks?" Jedao demanded.

Cheris winced. Apparently they hadn't had dramas in the black cradle, and that wasn't actually Jedao's fault. "Tell you another time," she said, except the _really inconvenient_ telepathic bond meant he already knew because he was reading it out of her mind, and she was ready to die of embarrassment.

"Do we?" Jedao asked.

"Do we what?"

"Have soulmarks?"

"I am _not_ checking your naked body over for one," Cheris informed him, huddling deeper in the bowels of the bomb shelter. She hunched over her slate, scanning the immediate area for any signs that the terrifying therapist was coming after them. "Maybe we should leave this system."

"I'd like to remind you that therapy was _your_ idea."

"Nobody likes a fox who says 'I told you so.'"

Jedao grinned. "I told you so. Anyway, there's no whiskey in this joint. Let's find a bar and get smashed."

Cheris had to concede that this sounded like a better idea than being trapped in a room with a woman who thought they were _fated mates_. "Fine."

"You're buying," Jedao said.

"It's not like we don't have a joint bank account," Cheris snapped. A little nagging voice in the back of her head suggested that considering they went everywhere together, did everything together, and had all their property in common, they were as good as mated anyway. _Shut up,_ she told it, and headed out with Jedao to drown her sorrows.


End file.
